Once in a Blue Moon (16 page)

Richard paused and
glanced around the cabin. “Like what?” He sounded genuinely
curious.

“Things.” She finished
wiping the table, set four plates out, and scraped the burnt
potatoes into a bowl. She set it on the table, and added butter and
jam and the loaf of bread that had mysteriously appeared on their
doorstep, along with jeans for Jeremy. She watched Richard finish
slicing the meat.

He laid six large
slices in a pan and moved back.

She put a dollop of
lard in another pan and let it melt. Yuck. She tried an egg, but
cracked it too hard and had to pick out pieces of broken shell.

Richard picked up the
bowl of eggs. “Why don’t you take a break. I’ll finish this.”

Melissa shook her head.
“No, I want to learn.”

“Really? Lissa, I’m
proud of you. It’ll be good for you to learn something new while
you’re here. It’ll keep you out of trouble,” he winked at her.

She snorted, watching
as he moved the pan off to the side and away from most of the heat,
expertly cracking the rest of the eggs. He turned a slice of
bacon.

“Can I turn the
rest?”

Richard grinned.
“Sure.”

Melissa turned the
slices, slopping some grease, but getting the job done.

Richard winked again,
and she felt warm inside, which was ridiculous. It was bacon, not
high fashion.

“We’re back!” The kids
walked in the open doorway, Jeremy juggling two tomatoes and
Jessica holding a couple of cucumbers.

“Oh,” Melissa groaned
in ecstasy. “Real food.”

She sliced the veggies
and placed them beside the burnt potatoes in the center of the
table. When the eggs were done to perfection, she slid them on a
plate, then checked the bacon, but it didn’t look quite done.
Undercooked meat was not a good idea in this century.

Richard looked at her
expectantly. “Ready?”

“Yes, everyone sit
down.”

They sat and everyone
dug in immediately as Melissa gazed at the fare, feeling pride,
which in turn made her feel slightly ridiculous. Imagine feeling
proud about such a lame meal. Eggs, potatoes, bread, butter and
jam, and veggies. And bacon soon to come. “Is this the kind of food
people here eat all the time? I mean, would they eat this in a
restaurant?”

Richard gave her an
apologetic smile. “Well, we’re probably not going to be able to
afford to eat out.”

Jessica grinned. “Mom
wants to know ‘cause she’s trying to get a job as a cook at the
restaurant in town.”

Richard’s brows rose.
“What?”

Jeremy reached for the
jam. “Yeah, we went to town today. The only job opening in the
whole place was for a cook. Mom’s going to try and learn so she can
work there.”

Richard stared at her
in surprise. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

Embarrassment heated
her cheeks. She knew a job as a cook would be quite a step down for
her. “It’s true. I’m going to get that job.”

Richard shook his head.
“I don’t want you getting a job. You’ll be busy enough with the
kids, the cabin and the responsibilities you’ll have here on the
ranch.”

Surprise left her
speechless for a moment. “I have to be employed. You know
that.”

“No.”

Anger started to
simmer. “You don’t make enough money. I’m getting a job.”

Richard’s face heated
and his eyes turned steely. “Learn to budget. This is too good an
opportunity for you to pass up. Spend time with the kids while
we’re here. You’re not getting a job.”

Melissa leaned forward.
“I’d like to see you try and stop me.”

Richard glanced over at
the stove and she followed his gaze. The bacon was smoking.

She jumped up to find
the meat burnt and crispy and turned to see Richard trying to hide
a grin.

The kids giggled.

Richard shook his head
at them and all three looked at her innocently.

White hot anger made
her hand tremble as she lifted the burnt meat onto a plate. “I will
get that job.”

“Sure, honey,” Richard
said soothingly. “We know.”

She slammed the bacon
down in the center of the table, scraped out her chair and sat.
She’d proved people wrong before. In fact, she’d been doing it her
entire life. This would be child’s play.

* * *

Melissa woke feeling
refreshed and optimistic. Despite the horrible mattress, she’d
slept like the dead. Richard was already gone.

She padded on bare feet
across the cold linoleum to look into the loft. The kids were still
sleeping.

After getting dressed
and running fingers through her thick, spiky hair and wishing for a
bottle of gel, she opened the door and flung up an arm to protect
her eyes from the bright morning sunlight.

She made a quick trip
to the outhouse, holding her breath as much as possible.

On the way back to the
cabin, she considered what to make for breakfast, but came up
blank. The eggs were gone and they’d finished the bread at dinner.
If breakfast was a natural for the evening meal around here, what
did people eat in the morning? Stew?

What she needed was to
invent some Fruit Loops or something. The image of herself holding
a bowl of cereal under a cow to get milk made her smile. It
probably wasn’t yet time to introduce sugar cereal to the
unsuspecting public, not when warm milk was the freshest option.
Besides, once again, she’d need money to make money.

She’d stick to her plan
and ask for tips on cooking. She’d get a mentor of some kind.
Someone who could teach her to cook from the ground up. Fast. If
she didn’t hurry, the job would be gone.

Up ahead, she noticed a
woman, one of the welcoming committee, getting water at the pump.
It was the chubby one who’d stomped off in a huff. Melissa took a
few steps to the side and quickly hid behind her cabin.

This was a perfect
opportunity. The woman had made those aromatic cookies. No doubt
she was a wonderful cook and could train Melissa. But how could she
get her cooperation?

Melissa bit her bottom
lip. Too bad she couldn’t simply pay for the information like she’d
normally do. You always knew where you stood with a person when
money was involved. Perhaps she could offer an exchange of some
kind? Maybe she could offer to sew a dress?

Melissa glanced down.
The dress she wore today was the yellow one. It was even uglier
than the orange of yesterday. The lady would laugh in her face,
something Melissa wasn’t willing to go through again. Ever. She
sighed. Besides, she had nothing to sew with anyway.

She wasn’t used to
feeling uncertain about anything, and it annoyed her. Yesterday’s
experience in town had been quite a blow to her ego, but she needed
to shrug it off. Winners never faltered, no matter the
opposition.

Perhaps she should act
as if the lady were a rich client and flatter her a bit? Except,
she acknowledged, she’d rarely brown-nosed a client. Her high-brow
attitude usually had them coming back for more, feeling she was
exclusive.

That wouldn’t work in
this situation. After yesterday she needed to be more careful.
She’d offended without even trying, so obviously the woman was very
touchy.

She sucked in a deep
breath and lifted her chin. No more indecision. “I can do this. I
know I can do this.” She gripped her hands. “Casual, friendly, that
seems to work for some people, right?”

She
glanced down and noticed an old filthy bucket with some dirt caked
in the bottom. Before she could change her mind, she grabbed it up,
rounded the corner and hurried over to the water pump.
I’m just out for a stroll, getting my daily
bucket of water
.
That’s me, always so casual
.

Oh, and charming. She
needed to be charming. She straightened her shoulders confidently.
Within minutes, the lady would be begging to teach her. She stopped
by the pump. “Hi.” She smiled her best smile.

The lady looked up.
“Good morning to you, Mrs. Kendal.” Her tone was arctic.

Melissa ignored it. She
could get around her. She tried to remember the lady’s name. “It’s
Emma, right?”

The lady set down her
full water bucket, tucked a wisp of blonde hair behind one ear,
straightened her shoulders and faced Melissa. “Actually, it’s Sarah
Mendelson. But only my friends call me Sarah. You may call me Mrs.
Mendelson.”

Melissa’s brows rose.
Well, okay then. This might be a tiny bit harder than she’d
thought. She kept the smile in place and nodded. “Uh, yes,” she
nodded again. “Right.” Apparently the hen’s feathers were still
ruffled. An apology might be in order if Melissa were to get what
she wanted.

She cleared her throat
and looked down at the shorter woman. “Um, about that little bit of
unpleasantness yesterday. You completely misunderstood. And perhaps
I wasn’t at my best.” Melissa smiled widely again, looking for
signs that her apology had been accepted.

Nothing, no softening
whatsoever. Sarah crossed her arms, pushing her generous chest up
and didn’t say a word.

Perhaps an ice breaker
of some sort? Melissa cleared her throat again and looked up at the
sky. “So, it looks like we’re going to have a pretty nice day
today, doesn’t it?”

Sarah stared at her
stonily. “I believe so. I expect that I remarked on that very thing
to my husband when I was making his breakfast. Three hours
ago.”

Melissa winced
inwardly. Apparently getting up late was a black mark on her
character, but Sarah had given her the perfect opportunity, and
she’d take it. “Speaking of cooking, I was wondering if you’d
consider giving me some cooking lessons?”

Sarah’s disbelief was
obvious. She tilted her head back, raised both brows and shook her
head. “I wouldn’t dream of doing any extra work, or of subjecting
you to my unhealthy ingredients.”

Melissa stared at the
ground for a moment, then looked Sarah in the eye. “Look, you have
to admit, you really did misunderstand. And I have no problem with
working. In fact, I’m a very hard worker and --”

”I’m glad to hear that.
The west side of the garden needs weeding today. Good day to you.”
Gathering up her bucket, Sarah walked away.

Watching her go,
Melissa ground her teeth. Who did that fresh-faced farm girl think
she was talking to? Melissa had lowered herself to apologize for
something she hadn’t even done! What more did the woman want?

Melissa threw the
bucket down, but it landed in the soft grass, depriving her of a
satisfying clatter. Why was nothing going her way lately? She was
trying her hardest, but it felt like whatever she did and no matter
how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to influence circumstances to
go her way.

Glancing around, she
noticed another woman watching from the doorway of a cabin. The
timid one. Melissa took a step toward her, but the woman quickly
shut the door.

Melissa felt a sting of
hurt, which she quickly tried to shrug off. It was obvious she’d
been excluded from the little Cowboy Wives Club. Big deal. That was
fine. It certainly wasn’t the first time she’d been ostracized and
it didn’t matter to her one whit. She still had options.

Her eyes landed on the
big ranch house. She’d just go and ask the housekeeper to teach her
to cook. Hettie, wasn’t it? Or Hannah? Whatever her name, she was a
mouse. Melissa could probably bully her into it within seconds.

* * *

Melissa knocked three
times on the side door of the ranch house and the widow MacPherson
answered, her tall, lithe frame filling the doorway. Decked out in
a barely fashionable navy work dress, her thick salt-and-pepper
hair upswept into a classical bun, she was an imposing figure.

Melissa froze. Weren’t
housekeepers
supposed to answer the
door? Especially the
side
door? Memories of her humiliation from the day
before surfaced and her spine stiffened as her chin came up. “Good
morning.”

The widow studied
Melissa’s yellow dress for a moment, her lips tightened, then she
lifted her gaze. “What do you want?”Stung by the caustic tone and
the rude delivery, Melissa was unwilling to let it go unchallenged.
“What do you mean by that comment?”

The widow’s wide-spaced
blue eyes narrowed, causing her wrinkles to furrow. “Your kind
always want something. You’re a taker.”

Melissa’s mouth dropped open. She worked harder than anyone
she knew. The injustice of the comment was too much to bear.
“
My kind
?
A taker
?” Her own eyes
narrowed. “I am so tired of the people in this community treating
me like I’m poison,” Melissa shook her head. “You don’t even know
me. How dare you presume to pass judgement on me like
that?”

The widow crossed her
arms. “Did you enjoy the fresh vegetables from the garden last
night? You didn’t work for them. You didn’t plant them. The least
you could have done yesterday was help tend and water the garden
since you’re enjoying the fruits of others’ labor. But did you? No.
After insulting the good women who live here, you spent the day in
town. You’re a taker and you reveal yourself with your every
action.”

“
How dare you
!” Melissa could feel her heart pounding hard in her chest.
“You know nothing about me! I spent the entire day yesterday
looking for a job to help support my family!”

The widow raised a
brow. “Not enough money in your pocket for your tastes? Your
husband has a good job. Others make do on the same or less.”

“But
for how long is he employed? You gave no indication that this job
was permanent,” Melissa was pleased to be able to throw
that
in the witch’s
face.

The widow paused, her
expression showing some indecision. “Then I apologize. Your husband
has proved himself capable and can have employment here for as long
as he likes. Does that set your mind at rest?”